Shatterpoint

4662 words

Episode 7: Shatterpoint The air in Station Eleven-B’s command hub vibrated with a low, grinding hum, the kind that burrowed into your bones and made your teeth ache. Mira stood frozen near the console, her hands still slick with sweat from the frantic dash through the lower decks. The emergency klaxons blared in staccato bursts, red lights strobing across the walls, painting her skin in flashes of crimson. Her chest heaved, each breath sharp and shallow, tasting of recycled metal and panic. Beside her, Cal hunched over the comms unit, his fingers trembling as they danced across the controls, trying to pull back the signal they’d lost just minutes ago. The static hissed through the speakers like a dying animal, relentless, mocking. “Anything?” Mira’s voice cracked, barely audible over the alarms. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing grime across her skin. The air felt thicker now, heavy with the tang of burnt wiring and something sour—fear, maybe, seeping from every pore in the room. Cal didn’t look up, his jaw tight, eyes locked on the flickering screen. “Nothing. Signal’s still dead. Whatever cut it off, it wasn’t interference. Something—or someone—killed it.” His voice was low, clipped, each word bitten off like he was chewing glass. Mira’s stomach twisted. She glanced toward the viewport, a narrow...